Here
by somethinginthewayful
Summary: An episode rewrite of 2x08 in which Sybil gets Spanish flu not Cora and Tom cares for her. It is a simple two-shot canon rewrite that I had to write for them. Plenty of Robert/Branson angst and Sybil/Tom fluffiness, with Drama to boot. Enjoy!
1. Part One

_Sybil/Branson - 2x08 rewrite_

**A/N: I'd just like to make it clear that I in no way would change Sybil and Branson's story line for 2x08, it was absolutely perfect - which is why so much of that dialogue made it into this story. However, this idea was swimming around in my brain so I had to give it a go. It was fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it, cliche and over dramatized as it may be. :) **

**Also, check out my Downton tumblr if that wasn't what sent you here. I do character pov vignettes from time to time and other misc. Downton bloggery - .com**

**Disclaimer: not mine. i know. fellowes!**

Lady Sybil Crawley rested on the sofa, her mind reeling and her stomach churing. Beneath her frock her legs were trembling, her hands nervously knotting themselves on her lap.

"Sybil, are you quite well?" Violet asked her, leaning forwards slightly.

"Yes, Granny," she replied, "I'm sure it's nothing, I feel a bit... run down is all,"

Violet nodded and dropped the topic, leaving Sybil to continue to stew in her nervousness. All thoughts had gone out of her head except for Tom, and deep in her heart she hoped her family would welcome them with open arms. Her head knew otherwise.

The door opened suddenly, revealing Tom Branson in a pale suit, Sybil's butterflies started up again with a vengence, but she quelled them as best she could.

"Yes?" Robert turned to Tom, clearly confused.

Tom ignored him, and looked to Sybil, a smile spreading across his face, "I'm here,"

"So I can see," Robert stated.

Sybil stood and crossed the length of the room to him, her legs weakening but her mind willing her forwards, "I don't think this is such a good idea, we musn't worry Granny..."

She took another step forwards, their proximity too close for any other chauffeur and lady, "You've asked me to come, and I've come."

Violet piped up from her place on the sofa, "Would someone please tell me what is going on? Or have we all stepped through the looking glass?"

Sybil wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she restrained herself as Tom spoke, "Your Grandmother has as much right to know as anybody else,"

"Why don't I find that reassuring," Violet raised an eyebrow.

The room paused, the air suddenly thick with anticipation. Sybil stepped forwards, "You see," she cleared her throat, "the thing is, I've fallen in love with Tom, rather, we've fallen in love with each other,"

"What?" Cora was the first to break the silence, "Sybil what are you thinking of?"

"I know it must come as a shock, Mama," she began again, "but I've spent so much time considering this, and trying not to love him," giving Tom a glance she suddenly felt stronger, "but I can't."

"You can't have thought at all," Robert finally spoke, "because if you had, you would have come to the conclusion that he is beneath you and could not provide for you."

"Oh, Papa," Sybil tried but was cut off.

"Sybil," Robert gave a shout but it was Cora who got in the next word.

"Sybil, this is hardly rational, you say you _love _him. But how long has this been going on? A month?"

There was a pause as they waited for her answer, Tom included, and she took a step back, her eyes locking with his, "I guess it must have been," she thought for a moment and studied his face, "before the war... it seems so long ago now,"

"Sybil!" Mary rose from her seat, "I hardly think this is the time, you should have waited to tell them,"

"What?" Robert's head snapped to his eldest daughter.

"I urged her to wait, to consider it longer, I knew but I thought..." she began

"What do you mean you knew?" Robert approached her, anger flooding his thoughts.

"I hoped it would blow over," she replied earnestly, "I didn't want to split the family while Sybil might still wake up,"

Robert turned to Branson, "And all the time you've been driving me about bowing and scraping and seducing my daughter behind my back!"

Sybil mentally groaned and knew that that was the last straw for Tom, "I don't _bow _and _scrape_ and I've not seduced anyone." he spat Robert's words back like poison, "Give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind."

"How dare you speak to me in that tone!" Robert retorted, "You will leave at once!"

"Oh, Papa," Sybil tried.

Robert merely laughed, "This is a folly, a ridiculous juvenile mess,"

Violet held up a hand, "Sybil," she said, "what do you have in mind?"

Robert gave a short laugh again, "Mama, this is hardly,"

"No," Violet stopped him again, "she must have something in mind, otherwise she wouldn't have summoned him here tonight."

"Thank you Granny," Sybil tried to straighten up but she was feeling weaker by the moment. Pushing it aside she faced her Grandmother and gave a glance to Tom before continuing, "Yes, we do have a plan, Tom's got a job on a paper, I'll stay until after the wedding, I don't want to steal their thunder," Sybil nodded to Matthew and Lavinia. "But after that, I'll go to Dublin."

"To live with him?" Cora stammered, "Unmarried?"

Sybil leaned closer to Tom unconciously and felt his eyes studying her face, she continued, "I'll live with his mother while the bands are read, and then," she looked up at Tom, "we'll be married, and I'll get a job as a nurse."

Violet leaned forward to address Tom, "What does your mother make of this?"

He sighed, "If you must know, she thinks we're very foolish,"

Violet gave a knowing laugh, "So at least we have something in common."

That was the catalyst for Robert, "I won't allow it! I won't allow my daughter to throw away her life!" He shouted.

Sybil shook her weary head, "You can poster it all you like Papa, it won't make any difference!"

"Oh yes it will," he argued.

"How?" she countered, "I don't want any money. You can hardly lock me up until I die," to this Robert had no answer, so she continued, "I'll say goodnight. But I can promise you one thing: tomorrow morning nothing will have changed, Tom," she turned to leave, her trembling fingers clenched into fists at her sides.

She could feel Tom following her as she briskly walked through the house into the main hall, "I can't accept this, I won't,"

"You don't have to," Tom came closer as she slowed and pressed a hand to her back, "they love you very much Sybil, and they'll come around, one day."

"I know," she pressed a hand to her forehand, "I just wish it were sooner rather than later,"

He nodded, placing his other hand on her upper arm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her flesh, "After we're married, and after we're settled they'll see, they'll come round,"

A flood of dizziness washed over her and Sybil leaned forward slightly, Tom's grip on her arm tightened, "Sybil are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she shook him off and righted herself, "I'll be fine, I'm just tired and angry, I think I need to lie down,"

He gently smoothed her hair and brushed his fingers along her cheek, "Tomorrow will be better,"

"I know it," she agreed, smiling.

"Goodnight then, love," he kissed her hair and gave her a smile in return.

"Goodnight," she murmured as he turned to walk away, "Branson!"

He turned back around, a smile still on his face, "Yes?"

"I love you," she said, "you know that?"

"I do," he nodded, "And I love you,"

The following evening Sybil once again put on her fine frock for dinner and headed for the dining room, to face her family and their questions once again. Before she could quite make it her father stopped her in the hall and pulled her back.

"Sybil," he shook his head, "you understand that if you do this, if you marry the _chauffeur_, you won't be recieved in London. You'll no longer be welcomed at court,"

Her jaw set and she bit back, "Your threats are hollow don't you see? How do I make you understand? I couldn't care less."

"Sybil!" His voice raised.

She felt suddenly sick again, but couldn't back down, "I will not give him up!"

Her father remained silent, watching her as she took a small step back and held herself up. Something was wrong, he could sense it, but he couldn't find the words to ask why.

"This is my offer, I will stay one week to avoid the impression that I've run away, and because I don't want to spoil Matthew's wedding. Then we will marry in Dublin and whoever wishes to visit will be very welcome," Sybil pushed past Robert and headed for the dining room, leaving his protest dying on his lips.

The sound of dinner was not conversation but that of scraping forks on plates and the click of jaws as they ate. Cousin Matthew finally broke the silence when Mr. Mosely fumbled a bit with the white wine, "Mr. Mosely, are you quite well?"

He stammered in reply, "I... I ... I'm alright, thank you sir,"

"I don't believe you are," Matthew shook his head and studied the weary man.

Sybil had been feeling progressively worse during dinner. Her corset was suddenly too tight and she felt she was fighting for proper gulps or air. Standing she placed a hand to the table for balace, "I think that I'm not quite alright," she admitted, "please excuse me,"

"Sybil?" her mother questioned and rose alongside with the men, "Is it serious? Should we..."

The words no sooner left her mouth than Sybil pitched forwards against her mother and forced them back down against their chairs.

"Sybil! Someone call Doctor Clarkson at once!"

Anna steped forwards, "he's already here for Mr. Carson, I'll fetch him straight away," she left the dining room in a bound.

Robert went around the table in a flash to help Sybil, "Cousin Matthew, help me get her upstairs to bed, please,"

"Of course," Matthew agreed and took Sybil in his arms.

Downstairs Branson was entering the servants dining quarters, dressed in the same suit, a hat in his hands. He was idily waiting for some word from Sybil, any word, and he desperately hoped the day alone with her family had not swayed her mind.

"Mr. Branson," Bates murmured to him, "I'm sorry about last night, I heard from Anna,"

Branson nodded and sighed, "we should have spoken out long ago."

Daisy turned at the sound of gossip, "Spoken out about what?"

"Oh why not," Branson murmured to himself, "Lady Sybil and I are getting married."

The shocked faces that stared back at him had hardly a moment to process the information before Mr. Carson entered the room, "Have you no shame?"

Tom shook his head, "I'm sorry you feel like that, Mr. Carson, you're a good man, but no, I have no shame. In fact, I have great pride in the love of that young woman and I will strive to be worthy of it."

Before Mr. Carson could brush Tom off again Anna appeared behind him, short of breath and looking for Branson, "Mr. Branson, may I speak to you?"

"What's happened?" he asked.

"It's Lady Sybil," she tried to speak in a hush but the others were clearly alarmed, "she's collapsed at dinner, taken very ill it would seem,"

Branson's blood ran cold, "Where is she?"

Mr. Carson stepped forwards, "Anna, I will not allow this,"

"Mr. Carson please," Bates stopped him.

Anna resumed, "we've fetched the Doctor for her and he says it's Spanish flu, Lord Grantham told me not to tell you... but I felt you should know, Lady Sybil would want you to come,"

"How serious is it?" Branson fumbled for words.

"There's no way to tell just yet," Anna admitted, "Doctor Clarkson said we'll have to see how she fairs through the night,"

"Where is she?" he asked again, "I've got to see her,"

"I'll take you," she started up the steps, "but I'll warn you, Lord Grantham won't have you there,"

"He can't keep me from her,"

Anna took him to the start of the hallway towards Lady Sybil's bedroom, "it's just down there, you'll see them outside the door I'm sure,"

"Thank you Anna," Branson murmured, "you've been good to us,"

"She loves you," Anna smiled, "you just have to make Lord Grantham believe that,"

Branson gave a small smile and turned, walking quickly towards Lord Grantham and the majority of the house except for Matthew and Isobel who were with Lavinia.

"No, Branson," Robert stood and blocked his view of the door, "you can't be here, all you'll do is ruin her life."

"But I don't accept that I am ruining her life," he argued, "and I have to see her,"

Robert shook his head, "Think, Branson! How could you even begin to look after her? Provide for her? We shouldn't be arguing, my daughter is very sick and she needs care, she doesn't need you."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you, but she does need me, M'Lord, as much as I need her,"

"Very well," Robert sighed and shook his head, "how much money would you take to leave us in peace?"

Branson took a step back and shook his head in frustration, "I don't want your money, however generous the sum, I want to see my _fiance._"

Robert scoffed, "That's enough,"

"I can't keep fighting you, sir," he said again, "it's not worth it while Sybil's lying there, sick and in need. I must go to her, and you must let me."

"I must do no such thing!"

The door opened behind Robert and Mary slipped out, "Papa, lower your voice, it's distressing her," Mary shushed them.

Branson turned to Mary, "is she alright? Will she be alright?"

"Branson please," Mary placed a hand on his arm, "her fever has worsened and she seems somewhat delirious, but the situation doesn't look too grave,"

"But it could turn so?" he asked.

Mary hesitated, "it could," she sighed, "but it's rather unlikely,"

"I don't like the odds M'Lady, and I'd very much like to see her," Branson pushed again.

Mary gave her father a look and then nodded to Branson, "she's been asking for you,"

Branson's eyes brightened, "then I must see her,"

Robert hesitated, "I won't allow it,"

"Papa," Mary chastised, "let Sybil have this while she's ill, fight them again in the morning if you must, but while she is ill let this lift her spirits."

Branson felt sure that he would push his way in if they did not agree soon.

"Alright," Robert resigned, "only for now,"

"Thank you," Brason said as he pushed his way past them and into Sybil's bedroom.

**A/N: There you have it, now if you liked it, onto part two with ya! **


	2. Part Two

**A/N: Here is part two to the story. And the last part, but I hope you kept with it and enjoyed it! Some of the dialogue is again, lifted from the show, but the story is canon after all. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and leave a review when you're done! :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey, if I did, Matthew and Mary would not be a sinking ship, Bates would not be arrested, and Robert would not be unfaithful... Sybil and Branson would be exactly the same though. This is just for fun. Thanks Fellowes for an awesome show. ;)**

She lay in the middle of the wide white bed, a sheen of sweat covering her pallid skin and her hair in unwoved disarray around her head. Her body shuddered with breath and tossed with each passing delusion.

Mary followed Branson in and stood beside him, "I'm afraid she doesn't know what's happening,"

Branson nodded, "Do you think she can hear me?"

"She might be able to," Mary nodded, "it's worth a try anyway,"

He took a few steps forward, discarding his hat on the foot of the bed and pulling a chair up close. He took her clammy hand in his and a cool wet cloth in his other, pressing it down to her forehead he murmured, "Sybil, it's Tom. I'm here with you, and I promise you I'm not leaving you,"

Sybil gave a wheeze and her hand gripped down, her eyelids clamped shut in pain. Branson let out a shaky breath and continued to wipe her brow, "Love, I'm right here, I'm not leaving you, Sybil... can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered open and then winced with the light, "Tom," she choked out.

"Hey," he brushed his fingers along her cheek, "You've gone and got yourself Spanish Flu," he murmured, "right when we were going to start our new life," he felt foolish tears prickling his eyes and he blinked them back, "so do me a favor and stick around because I don't think I can go anywhere without you,"

A smile cracked across her pained face, and she half laughed half sobbed her reply, "Just my luck,"

Branson kissed her hand and gripped with his, "The Doctor says you should be alright, so make sure you are,"

"There's no way I could leave," she turned her head to look at him, "not after all we've been through."

He kissed her hand again and smiled, "What else do you need, love? What can I do?"

"Water," she licked her dry lips, "please,"

He jumped up but saw Mary was already fetching a glass, shrugging off his coat and rolling up his sleeves he took the glass and sat on the edge of the bed. With one hand under her neck he lifted her to meet the tipped forwards glass and eased some water down her weak throat, "Easy now,"

She lifted her mouth away and gripped his knee, "Thank you,"

He set the water on the nightstand beside them but did not leave his position on her bed, he couldn't drag himself away, "Sibyl," he gently leaned her back into the pillows, "I love you, you know that?"

"I do," she mimicked his words from the previous night, "and I love you,"

He smiled and smoothed her hair back from her pained face, "you should get some sleep,"

She nodded into the warmth of his hand, "Don't leave me,"

"Never," he murmured and took his place in the chair by her bed, reclining but keeping one hand pressed into his until she fell into a fitful sleep and he fell into a comfortable position to watch her in.

Mary turned to leave, "you'll call for us if anything changes,"

"Of course I will, M'Lady," he murmured.

"And Branson," she murmured, "I belive you'll win her in the end, so do take good care of her,"

"I fully intend to, M'Lady,"

"Good." With that, Mary left.

Tom had not slept a wink all night, alternating between wiping Sibyl's brow and helping her into a more comfortable position as she tossed and turned. Throughout the night different members of the Crawley family passed through and checked on her, but Branson hadn't moved. Anna frequented the room, providing fresh cloths and cooler water to help her temperature, continually assuring Branson that Sibyl would in fact recover.

By late morning Branson had begun to hate the Spanish Flu. Coherent conversation had left Sibyl sometime during the early hours and now she was alternating between painful moans and calling Tom's name, to which Tom would murmur assurances of his presence.

Later in the evening the Doctor returned again, bringing with him a parade of Crawleys who all took their respective places around Sibyl's bed.

"How has she faired since I last saw her?" Doctor Clarkson asked as he approached them.

"Her fever took a turn for the worse," Branson admitted, "and she hasn't been able to sleep much at all,"

Branson stepped back to allow the Doctor room to examine her, Branson's eyes met Robert's and he bristled, still angry with him.

"It's definitely worse," Doctor Clarkson admitted, "worse than I imagined,"

Branson's stomach knotted at the words but Robert spoke up, "What is to be done?"

"Epinephrine," he answered, and there was a bustle as he pushed past the family, retrieved it, and administered it.

"Will it help?" Branson questioned.

"No way to know yet," Doctor Clarkson admitted, "if she makes it through tonight... she will live,"

"Oh God," Cora put a hand to her lips, tears coming to her eyes, "No,"

Branson steeled himself as he retook his place by her side, a cold cloth to her brow and a hand against her cheek.

"Branson, I think you've done quite enough!" Robert started.

"Robert!" Cora grasped his arm, "not now, let him help her,"

Before any protest could be made Sibyl gave a start and gripped Tom's arm frightfully, gasping for air, "Tom," she wheezed.

"I'm here," he assured again.

Blood began to trickle from her nose, fresh sweat broke out on her brow, and a cough overtook her.

"What does it mean?" Edith asked, fear in her voice.

"It's a hemmorage of the mucus membrane," Doctor Clarkson said, "not uncommon for Spanish Flu,"

Tom grabbed a wet cloth, pulled Sibyl up and sat beside her. He put an arm around her and let her lean against his chest for support, soothing her cough and wiping the blood from her face, "Shhh," he murmured into her hair, "it's gonna be alright, love,"

Sibyl's fingers grasped Tom's leg, white knuckled as she heaved out a cough, "I can't..."

A silence fell over the room, save for Sibyl's wheezing, as they all weighed her words. Tears fell from Cora's eyes as she gripped her husband's arm, she couldn't face losing another child.

Tom pressed his lips to her hair and shook his head, "No love, you've got to fight. You've got a lot left to see in this world,"

She shook her weary head and let it drop against his shoulder, "I can't,"

"Never in my life have I heard you say 'I can't'," Tom said to her, "don't start now. You can, and you know you can,"

A moment passed and Sibyl rested her forehead against his neck, nodding weakly.

"That's my girl," he whispered, "you'll be alright,"

Sibyl's coughs settled slightly, the shivering subsided and Tom turned to Doctor Clarkson, "Is there anything more I can do?"

"No my boy," he smiled at Branson, "keep on like you are and I'm sure she'll make it until morning,"

Branson nodded and shifted his attention back to Sibyl, pressing a small kiss to her hair. He had almost forgotten the Crawley family in a congregation around them, watching the scene in a stunned stupor.

It was broken when Jane pushed the door open, "I'm sorry to intterupt, but it's Miss Swire,"

"What's happened?" Mary questioned

"It doesn't look good at all," the maid admitted, "Mr. Crawley is with her now,"

The family rushed out after Jane, but Robert stayed and looked on the pair for a moment. Branson looked up, his eyes set on the Lord's. Robert gave a small nod and then departed.

When Sybil woke she was disoriented, she was lying face down on something warm and firm, encircled by warmth. She felt a flutter breath move over her loose strands of hair as she blinked the cobwebs back and made sense of her surroundings. Her fingers flexed and she realised it was Tom's chest she was comfortably lying on, his arm that she grasped with cold fingers, the same arms that held her close and protected her from her delerious thrashing.

For a moment she closed her eyes in the reverie, she had lived and woken up by Tom's side. For a moment all was perfect. Reopening her eyes she moved her head and glanced up at Tom's sleeping face, dark circles were present under his eyes, his hair mussed and shirt collar undone.

"Tom," she murmured, placing a kiss to the base of his throat, "Tom,"

He let out a sleepy sigh and a groan, his eyelids squeezed tightly shut before drifting open, "Hmmm?"

"Tom," she shifted her hand from his arm to gently touch his cheek.

His eyes widened, "Sybil?" his hand immediately brushed back her hair and cupped her face, "you're alright!"

"Yes," she smiled, "I'm alright,"

He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, "For a little while there I thought that might have been it for us,"

She shook her head and held him close, "No," there was a long pause as they breathed each other in and she murmured, "I think I could get used to this, Tom Branson,"

"So could I," he agreed.

"How is everyone else?" she pulled back to study his face.

Tom shook his head slightly and frowned, "Miss Swire passed away in the night,"

"Oh how awful for Matthew!" her face fell, "anyone else?"

"No, no," he assured her, "but there is good news,"

"Oh?"

"Anna and Bates were married yesterday," he gave her a small smile, "at the courthouse in Ripon,"

"Oh that's wonderful!" she sighed, "it's about time,"

He gave a small laugh in response and kissed her head, "Your family will be in soon to check on you,"

"Before they come," she let out an uneasy breath, "I want to thank you, for staying with me, and for being with me when I told Papa, and for pushing me to admit that I love you,"

He interrupted her words with a kiss, "Sybil I know, you don't have to say it,"

She nodded and buried her face in his chest, "I know, I know, but I needed to. And even if my family casts me off, I will still follow you, I want you to know that too."

Tom nodded and went to speak but the door opened and Anna came through, breathing a sigh of relief, "Oh, Lady Sybil, I'm glad to see you're well again!"

"Thank you, Anna," with the help of Tom, Sybil righted herself in the bed and fixed the sheets and comforters, "are my parents coming soon?"

"Yes, M'Lady," Anna replied, "They were coming up the stairs as I came in, but I thought I'd give you two some warning. Looks as though you needed it,"

Sybil grinned and looked up at Tom who was staring down at her with an equally happy look. Tom returned to a respectable position of being perched on the edge of her bed, fingers entwined and the side of his leg pressed gently against hers.

There was a small commotion in the hallway outside the door and Sybil gave a weak laugh, "You know," she said looking to Tom, "we've just survived sickness and health, I think we can handle anything else,"

He smiled, "I think we can,"

The door pushed open and the Crawley family filed in, Cora immediately flying to the bedside of her youngest daughter. "Sybil! Oh, thank God, Sybil," she pulled her daughter into a hug and Sybil released Tom's hands to embrace her mother.

"I know, Mama, I'm alright, I promise," Sybil assured her and pulled away, leaning back against the pillows and taking Tom's hand once again in her own. The gesture did not escape her family's eyes.

Robert cleared his throat and the room stilled, "I suppose you'll go to Dublin now,"

"In a week or so," she replied, straightening up and gripping Tom's hand tighter, "when I am well again, there shouldn't be a reason to delay, although I do so wish we could have parted friends,"

"What about you," Robert nodded to Tom, "do you want to part friends?"

"I do," he admitted, "although I don't expect to,"

Sybil's face dropped, staring down at their entwined fingers and there was a long pause.

Robert's voice broke the silence once again, "Alright."

Sybil's head snapped up, "What?" her ears clearly deceiving her.

"If I can't stop you, I see no profit in a quarrel," he said, "and although you'll have a very different life from the one you might have lived, Mr. Branson has cared for you well these past few days, and if you're sure it's what you want..."

Sybil smiled broadly and looked to Tom, his eyes shining, "I am,"

"Then when you are well, you make take my blessing with you," he smiled at his daughter, "whatever that means,"

"Oh, Papa," she smiled, tears coming to her eyes, "it means more that anything, more than anything!"

Tom looked down at her as she placed a hand to her mouth and continued to grin.

Robert and Tom locked eyes suddenly and he lowered his voice, "If you mistreat her I will personally have you torn to pieces by wild dogs."

Tom nodded, "I'd expect no less,"

Sybil looked up again, "Will you all come over for the wedding?"

"We'll see, we'll talk about that later when you're well again and feeling up to it," Robert sighed and gave a defeated smile and crossed the room to raise a hand to Tom.

He stood and accepted the handshake gladly as a sign of peace, "Thank you," he smiled at his soon to be father in law.

Robert nodded and turned to leave, leaving Sybil with her mother, sisters, and fiance. Just outside the door Violet was waiting with a knowing smile, "So I see you've given in," she peered past him through the open door to the smiling couple grasping each other's hands.

He shut the door, "she would have gone anyway, and perhaps we should remind ourselves of what really matters, I know you think that's soft," he scoffed.

"Oh," she laughed, "not at all. The aristocracy is not survived by its intransigence," they began to walk down the hallway, "Oh, no, no, we must work with what we've got to minimize the scandal,"

"And what have we got to work with?" he asked.

"Well you'd be surprised," she said, "he's political, isn't he? And a writer, well I could make something out of that." Robert shook his head and she continued, "And there's a family called Branson with a place not far from Cork, I believe they have a connection with the Howards. Well surely we can hitch him onto them,"

And with that, they descended the steps.

**A/N: And so there it is... I had to get this out of my brain and onto paper, so I hope it was worth your read. If anyone would like me to continue writing Sybil x Branson fics I'd be happy to do so... I have a few ideas stashed away in my brain that I'd like to get out too... but I'm not sure if anyone wants to really read them. So let me know, and please review this story too, I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**-x**


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